


Covered in Knives, Touching God

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Blood As Lube, Hopeful Ending, Knives, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Ritual Sex, Stabbing, Torture, Very Unsafe Sex, centipedes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24322180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kevin gives the Smiling God a gift.
Relationships: Carlos/Kevin (Welcome to Night Vale)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Covered in Knives, Touching God

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mediumgrave](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediumgrave/gifts).



Carlos knew the moment he woke up that he wasn’t in bed. Cecil’s body was absent, leaving him feeling cold and alone. The soft sheets underneath him were gone in favour of something cold and sticky. He tried to move, but his wrists and ankles were bound. It didn’t feel like rope, it felt rubbery. Not rubbery enough that he could pull his hands free, of course. His bindings were attached to something, he assumed it was whatever sticky surface he was lying on. He didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to know where he was. The parts of Nightvale he’d seen were horrifying enough, he didn’t want to have to take in whatever this was.

Then he felt a tickle at his scalp. Someone running their fingers through his hair. He shook his head in protest, but whoever it was pinned his head down, claws digging into his scalp. Maybe not a someone, then. Although he’d found the sort of things in Nightvale that had claws like that didn’t much like being called things.

Something cold and smooth pressed against his eyelid.

“Morning sunshine,” a bright and cheery voice said, too close to him for comfort. “You gonna open those eyes and say good morning, or am I going to have to open them for you?”

Carlos blinked eyes open. To his shock, he saw a knife sitting an inch or so from his eye. He jumped away from it, or at least tried to. The sudden motion of his head moved him right into the knife, slashing just below his right eye. It stung, and he tried to move his hand up to assess the damage only to remember it was bound with that horrible rubbery rope.

The creature in the room swiped its clawed finger over his face, wiping off the blood. Carlos followed the thing’s arm, up its body and toward its face. Its body was human, dressed in a button-down shirt and a vest, which looked normal if a little bloodstained. But its face… oh, god, its face…

The thing had no eyes. Whatever was in its eye sockets wasn’t eyes, they were deep black pits where eyes should be. Blood dipped down its forehead, down its cheeks, its whole face. Its scalp seemed to be leaking blood, soaking its hair and drenching its face. And its mouth, its mouth was what convinced Carlos this thing couldn’t be human. Its lower jaw hung off its face, seemingly attached just at the ears. Its tongue stuck out between two long rows of jagged, pointy teeth, drooling over Carlos.

The creature raised its claw to its deformed mouth, slowly licking the blood off its finger.

“I’m so glad you could make it,” the thing said, its jaw twitching as it spoke. There was no way anything resembling words should have come out of that mouth. “The Smiling God will be so _happy_ to have you.”

“What are you?” Carlos demanded. “Where am I?”

“I’m Kevin,” the creature-man?-replied. “This is a beautiful place, a place of devotion to the Smiling God. I worked so hard preparing an altar for it. For you. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this place. Mostly blood, not all mine, but you get the idea.”

Carlos looked around him. He couldn’t move his head very much, he was pinned to the altar lying on his back, but he could see it. He was laying in a pile of viscera, congealed blood and skin and meat piled into what he supposed resembled a bed. The blood was unsettlingly damp and sticky on his back. He pulled on the ropes binding him, desperate to get up, to get out of this horrible meat pile. Was he a sacrifice to this man’s god? Was he going to be the next piece of this horrific altar?

Kevin tugged at the ropes binding Carlos’s ankles.

“Hm,” he said. His lips didn’t touch when he said it, although there was no way they couldn’t have. The voice was clearly coming out of his mouth, but that was also impossible. Carlos pushed against the bindings, trying to rip his legs apart and failing.

“You’re right,” Kevin decided. “These things are going to need to come off.” He dragged the knife down Carlos’s body, just shallow enough not to cut. He traced it down his inner thigh, making Carlos acutely aware of the thin barrier of his underwear. He’d been taken right from his bed, dragged out of his home in nothing but a pair of boxers. He wondered if Cecil noticed. It was bright in this place, wherever it was, but Carlos couldn’t be sure if that was because it was morning or because there was a light somewhere in the room he couldn’t see. He wondered if Cecil would look for him, if anyone would come to rescue him. If not, would Kevin let him go? Would he die here?

Kevin sliced the ropes at his ankles, and the cut material sprung back painfully against his legs. He held up the ropes so Carlos could see them. The ropes were pinkish and damp with blood. It reminded Carlos of doing dissections at university, pulling long ropes of intestines out of a stiff, preserved creature.

Fuck. They were intestines.

Carlos kicked wildly at Kevin, though he wasn’t sure what he was aiming to do. His hands were still tightly bound above his head, and no matter how hard he pulled he couldn’t free himself. Kevin seemed unfazed by his struggle, shaking his head and _tsk_ ing at Carlos. He dug his claws into Carlos’s legs, pinning them down. Carlos yelped.

“You’re not going to make me do this, are you?” Kevin asked. “I’d like to use my hands, if you don’t mind.”

Carlos gritted his teeth, keeping his legs still only because he feared the claws would tear his flesh if he moved.

“You’re going to be good, right?” Kevin asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Why?” Carlos demanded. “What are you doing with me?”

“I’m letting the Smiling God into your life. It wants to make you happy, Carlos. It wants to make you _useful._ ”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Kill you? Oh, no, absolutely not! I’m giving you new life! New _meaning!_ It’s an honour to be of service to the Smiling God, you know. To be given to it in such a pure, visceral way… frankly, I’m jealous of you.”

“Am I going to be able to go home?”

Kevin glared, his eyes narrowing but his mouth remained a gaping, hideous smile.

“If you decide that’s what you want, after meeting the Smiling God, I suppose I can’t stop you. Though I doubt you will. Once you feel the joy of the Smiling God, you’ll want to serve it forever.”

“Fine. Fine, I’ll be good.”

“Excellent!” Kevin exclaimed, drawing his claws out of Carlos’s flesh. Carlos breathed heavily through the pain. He watched as Kevin dutifully licked the blood off the tips of his claws. Once his claws were sufficiently clean, dripping with vile drool, Kevin picked the knife back up off the floor. It was a small blade, about as long as his hand, with a pointed tip and wavy edges. The metal was shiny and deep black, like the pits of Kevin’s missing eyes. Kevin stroked his claw over the knife. He was eyeing it intently, but Carlos wasn’t sure how he knew this given that Kevin didn’t have eyes.

“I’m really sorry for cutting your face like that,” Kevin said. “I hate to jump into things so fast.”

Carlos had been distracted from the cut on his face by the claw marks in his legs, but now that he was reminded of it it stung hard. More than a cut should sting, he thought. He whimpered at the pain. He’d never had a high tolerance for pain, and he dreaded what Kevin was going to do with that knife.

“Let’s see what we’re working with, hm?” Kevin said, clutching the knife in one hand and resting his other hand on Carlos’s chest. He traced a claw down his torso, hooking it into the waistband of his underwear. Carlos stared at him, his eyes going wide with terror. His smile looked like a smirk.

Kevin pulled on the waistband, and Carlos squeezed his eyes shut. He heard an awful tearing noise, and he felt cold. Kevin tore the fabric again, and again, until his underwear was thoroughly shredded. He pulled the fabric scraps away, and Carlos suddenly felt the awful sensation of the meat pile against his bare ass. Kevin’s touches were gentle now, and that was somehow more unsettling than being torn with his claws. He ran the tip of his claw over Carlos’s inner thigh. He took hold of Carlos’s balls and gave them a tentative squeeze. He grabbed Carlos’s cock and gave it a few strokes. It felt like being studied.

“You look very nice,” Kevin said. “Very, _very_ nice. The Smiling God will _love_ this.” He rubbed his thumb over the tip of Carlos’s cock. Carlos almost asked to be clawed again. He felt himself getting hard, and he hated it. If the Smiling God wanted to get him off… well, he didn’t exactly know how to stop it, but he’d grit his teeth and pray it didn’t happen.

Kevin let go of Carlos’s cock, dragging his claw down, over his balls and down towards his asshole.

“No,” Carlos muttered. He whined softly as the tip of Kevin’s claw entered him. “Just cut me up, please, not this.”

“Ah. That’s a good point,” Kevin said, lifting his knife. He kept his claw buried in Carlos, just up to the first knuckle. Carlos didn’t dare move, if Kevin’s claws could dig so easily into his thighs he was horrified to imagine what they could do inside of him. Kevin traced the tip of the knife over the inside of Carlos’s thigh, agonizingly gentle at first and gradually increasing in pressure until Carlos felt the sharp sting of tearing skin. Kevin drew his claw out of Carlos, dragging it over the wound. Carlos whimpered. The gash in his thigh was long, and it was bleeding enough to quickly cover Kevin’s finger in blood. Kevin had promised not to kill him, but that was quite a lot of blood, if it kept bleeding or if Kevin decided to keep cutting him like that he definitely wouldn’t be making it out alive.

Suddenly, Kevin pushed his blood-soaked finger back into Carlos, deeper this time, and Carlos yelped.

“Yes,” Kevin said, his voice quivering. “That’s much better, don’t you think?” He fucked the bloody finger in and out, and Carlos tried to ignore his growing erection. If he got off on getting fucked with his own blood, what did that say about him?

Kevin drew his finger out again, and Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. He stared up the ceiling, bloodspattered white tile staring back down at him. He noticed Kevin moving out of the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. He was getting a break, and if he didn’t take it he was going to regret it. Kevin kneeled on the meat pile between his legs. Caros heard a zipper.

Something that was definitely not a claw rubbed at the wound in his thigh. Carlos looked back down to see Kevin, his bloodstained khakis at his knees. Carlos couldn’t actually see what was happening between his legs, but he _knew_ what it had to be. He whimpered, not just because it hurt but because it was just so utterly vile. After the meat throne and being tied up with intestines and fingered with his own blood, he didn’t think anything else would be able to disgust him, but somehow Kevin rubbing his cock over his open wound was on a different level.

Then it stopped, and Carlos could see Kevin towering over him, his cock bloodsoaked and hard. Carlos was sort of surprised that it looked human. Kevin grabbed onto his legs, pulling them apart and pushing them upwards. Carlos could feel his claws threatening to dig in, and while he thought he’d prefer that to being violated any further, he was too scared of the pain, so he spread his legs and bent them at the knees, offering his ass to Kevin. At least Kevin’s dick wasn’t going to rip a hole in him. Maybe if he just took it, he’d be able to get out of this without any kind of severe damage.

“There we go. You’re doing so good, Carlos. You’re letting the Smiling God in!” Kevin exclaimed, his voice high with excitement.

“Just fuck me, you monster,” Carlos growled.

“Hey. We don’t need to talk like that.” Kevin shook his head as he lined up his cock with Carlos’s ass. “But I’d be happy to make love to you. So very, very happy.” He shut his empty eyes and pushed his cock into Carlos. It wasn’t so bad. It was by far the least stressful or painful thing Kevin had done to him, and it wasn’t like Carlos had never been fucked before. Usually he was in his bed, and there was no blood, and if his wrists were tied it was with soft silk ribbon and not intestines. And, of course, when he would look up at the man on top of him, Cecil’s gentle eyes would be staring back at him. Now all he saw when he looked up were those awful dark pits.

Kevin took hold of Carlos’s hips, pulling him closer as he thrust in and out. The effectiveness of blood as lube was scientifically fascinating to say the least: Kevin was able to bury himself in Carlos down to the base, pulling out and pushing back in with ease. Carlos’s muscles ached with the stretch, but it wasn’t quite painful. He rocked his hips in time with Kevin’s thrusts. He was definitely hard now, he probably would’ve reached down and touched himself if his hands weren’t tied.

“Can you…” he gasped, looking desperately into Kevin’s obsidian eyes. “Can you touch me? I need…”

“Oh, yes,” Kevin replied, grabbing onto Carlos’s cock and stroking it eagerly. “You’re so close, Carlos. Just let it in. Let the Smiling God take you.” He fucked Carlos harder, his thrusts quick and desperate as he stroked Carlos’s cock. He made a noise like a wounded animal as he came, and Carlos didn’t last much longer after that. Blood and cum dripped out of his ass and covered his thighs. He looked up at Kevin. He hadn’t noticed it before, but Kevin looked so much like Cecil. His hair was the same, if a little messier. His face was the same shape if you didn’t count his hanging jaw. He wasn’t quite tall or short, not fat or thin.

_Cecil._

“Oh god,” Carlos muttered. “Oh god, I have a boyfriend.”

“Is that so?” Kevin asked. He brushed Carlos’s hair out of his face. Carlos’s forehead was soaked with sweat.

“Cecil,” Carlos said. “Oh, god, Cecil…” Carlos felt tears springing to his eyes. He didn’t think he had it in him to cheat, but apparently he did. Sure, he was tied up here against his will, but he’d enjoyed having Kevin fuck him. He’d begged Kevin to touch him, to make him cum. He didn’t fight it, not really.

“Hm. That’s a real shame,” Kevin said. “It’s hard to love the Smiling God when you’re in love with something so… so _distant_ from it. I think you need something more.”

“No,” Carlos protested. “No more. You got what you wanted, just let me go home.”

“I don’t think I can,” Kevin said. “You’re not with the Smiling God yet. You don’t feel its joy rushing through your veins.”

“I don’t want to! I just want to go home! I just want to see my boyfriend, and I want to take a goddamn shower and probably run a few tests on myself because this whole meat pile thing is definitely not sanitary.”

“Carlos, Carlos, Carlos,” Kevin muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t need any of that. Just let the Smiling God in. You’re going to feel so good.” He picked up the knife again, tracing the tip down Carlos’s torso until it rested just above his belly button.

 _”No,”_ Carlos cried.

“Shh,” Kevin whispered. “You’re going to feel amazing. I can feel the Smiling God, it’s so close, it just wants you. Just let it in.”

He plunged the knife into Carlos’s stomach, burying it down to the handle. Carlos screamed. It didn’t sting like a cut, it felt like being punched in the gut but so, so much worse. He kept screaming, trying desperately to catch his breath but unable to do so through the screaming and the horrible, horrible pain. Kevin twisted the knife, and Carlos could hear the awful squishing of tearing flesh over his own screams. If the gash in his thigh didn’t kill him, this certainly would. No way was he going to survive this. He screamed-no, he didn’t scream, he _wept,_ tears streaming down his face as he shuddered, feeling the muscles of his abdomen spasming around the blade.

“Oh, none of that,” Kevin said, his voice dripping with sweetness. Carlos hated him. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to call him all sorts of awful things, but he couldn’t form words, he couldn’t stop wailing. Kevin kept one hand on the knife and raised the other to Carlos’s face, stroking lightly over the stubble on his chin before resting his fingers on Carlos’s lips.

Something _moved_ under the bloodstained cuff of his shirt. Something twitched, writhing horridly under the fabric. Carlos could barely avert his mind from the pain enough to be scared of it, but he knew it couldn’t be good. He watched Kevin’s hand as a thick black centipede crawled out of his sleeve. Carlos pinched his lips shut, but it didn’t do anything. The centipede crawled over his lips, its legs tickling against his skin as it pushed into his mouth. Carlos whined through his closed mouth as the centipede crawled over his teeth, over his tongue, onto the roof of his mouth. He was frozen, trying to figure out what to do (Swallow it? Bite it? Try and spit it out?) when another centipede crawled out from under Kevin’s shirt. It entered Carlos’s mouth along with the first, and he gagged, which did nothing to remove the bugs. Kevin pulled down his bottom lip, opening his mouth to allow a few more centipedes to crawl in. Carlos felt his mouth fill with them, hundreds upon hundreds of legs crawling over his tongue. He cried, opening his mouth to sob only to feel the centipedes clinging to his lips and sitting above his throat, stopping anything more than a whimper from leaving his mouth. Carlos closed his mouth again, tears streaming down his face and centipedes writhing in his mouth.

“There we go,” Kevin said, running a claw over Carlos’s pursed lips. “Much better.” He twisted the knife in Carlos’s abdomen again, and Carlos whined through his mouthful of centipedes. He watched as Kevin pulled the knife slowly out of him, allowing a stream of blood to burst forth.

His eyes drifted back to Kevin’s body, and he realized with some horror that Kevin’s pants were still at his knees, and his cock was hard again. Carlos’s entire body was shaking with the pain of the stab wound, but if Kevin wanted to fuck him again, he supposed this couldn’t get any worse. He arched his back and spread his legs, feeling absolutely awful but not wanting to disappoint his captor.

“Oh, no,” Kevin said softly. “As much as I loved fucking your cute little ass… I think you need something different.” He pressed the tip of his claw into the stab wound. “I’m gonna fuck you right here, okay? Isn’t that nice?”

_No. No, fuck no, you’re going to kill me._

Kevin moved closer, straddling Carlos’s hips. He rested his hand right next to the hole in his belly, and blood poured out. Kevin was breathing heavily as he lowered himself onto Carlos, little whimpers of anticipation slipping out every once in a while. His cock was dripping with blood and precome. Carlos squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the tip of Kevin’s cock push into the wound.

“Oh! Oh, my, I…” Kevin stuttered. “I can _feel_ it, oh, Carlos, don’t you feel it?” He sunk his cock deeper into the wound, and Carlos felt his ruined muscles tighten around it. He wasn’t actually sure if Kevin had stabbed him deep enough to reach his intestines, surely he must have given the length of the knife, but if he had, wouldn’t Carlos be dead by now?

Carlos’s stomach throbbed as Kevin pushed his cock in and pulled it back out. He was going slowly, carefully, his body shaking with excitement. There was a squishing noise as he moved in and out of the bleeding wound, blood gushing out in bursts as he moved his cock in Carlos’s ruined belly.

“I-I’ve never served my God like this,” Kevin murmured excitedly. “It feels so good, oh God, I never imagined… I never thought it was possible to be so _happy!_ ” Kevin leaned over Carlos, his hands planted in the meat pile on either side of him. He breathed heavily into Carlos’s face, blood and spit dripping from his mouth and landing on Carlos’s neck and chest. He fucked in and out of the wound, his pace quickening, whining desperately in time with his thrusts.

“Oh, Carlos, it’s here, can’t you feel it?” He pushed his cock deep into Carlos’s belly, and it sure felt like he’d hit an organ of some kind. Carlos’s eyes stung from crying, pain radiated from his belly and made his whole body feel sore. Whatever Kevin felt, he didn’t feel it. He just felt pain and exhaustion. He felt utterly and completely ruined.

Kevin came with a long whine. The sensation of cum filling the open wound was unpleasant, but at least that meant it was over. Kevin pulled his cock out, and Carlos felt blood pouring out of his belly. It was over. He waited for it to be over. Kevin still sat on his hips, looking at him with those awful eyes and that horrible, horrible smile. Carlos knew he should have passed out by now. From the blood loss, or shock, or something, but it didn’t happen. He stayed conscious, staring up at the horrible monster who had ruined him.

Kevin ran his claw over Carlos’s lips, pulling his mouth open. The centipedes poured out, crawling down his chin and his neck and off onto the meat pile.

“Why am I not dead?” Carlos asked. Hardly any sound came out of his mouth. Talking made the wound in his belly throb.

“Because the Smiling God loves you,” Kevin replied. “It loves you so much. It’s so happy with what I’ve done with you.”

“What if I’m not happy? You said I could go home.”

“Fine,” Kevin said, finally lifting himself off of Carlos. He stood up next to the meat pile, staring down at Carlos. He was still smiling, but there was a rage in his deep black eyes. “Go home to your precious Cecil. Go home knowing he’ll never be able to make you as happy as the Smiling God could. As _I_ could.”

Kevin picked up the knife, and Carlos flinched, but he only sliced the intestines binding his wrists. Carlos moved a shaking hand down to his belly, feeling the awful gaping wound. Surprisingly, most of the bleeding had stopped, but it was still incredibly painful. He sat up, his belly throbbing.

“Do you have any… clothes?” he asked. If he was going to have to find his way home, he’d prefer to not do it naked.

“No,” Kevin said smugly. “I would have given you some if you’d stayed, but you wanted to go home and be miserable. So go.” He gestured towards a door in the corner of the room. Carlos limped over to it, clutching his stomach and hunching over. He grabbed the doorknob with shaking hands and pushed it open, practically falling through it. He hit the floor, and that was when he finally passed out.

He came to in his and Cecil’s living room, draped over Cecil’s lap on the couch. He was so glad to see Cecil, his beautiful, gentle eyes staring down at him.

“Oh, thank God, you’re alive,” Cecil whispered. He had one hand in Carlos’s hair, stroking him softly, and the other hand on his chest. Carlos noticed he was still naked, but he was okay with that. It was Cecil. Cecil was safe.

“Cece… babe, I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

“Carlos, darling, you don’t have to be sorry.”

“Kevin. He said his name was Kevin.”

“Kevin?” Cecil’s eyes went wide. “Like… no eyes, weird mouth, always _happy_ Kevin?”

“Yeah. You know him?”

“Oh, Carlos…” Cecil took Carlos’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “It’s not important right now. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Carlos wasn’t exactly sure if he was okay. But he was with Cecil, and that was as okay as he’d ever be.


End file.
